


The Farming Collective

by Ack_Emma



Series: The Great Woods and the Ineffable Colony [1]
Category: Good Omens (TV)
Genre: F/M, Irreverence Toward Religion, Mature rating for mildly adult themes, Pre-Relationship, Public Nudity, Puritan New England, Witches, Witches' sabbath, a young man touches himself, but for the purposes of the story he's 18, the touching isn't really described
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-23
Updated: 2020-10-23
Packaged: 2021-03-09 05:28:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 745
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27158608
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ack_Emma/pseuds/Ack_Emma
Summary: Aziraphale is ministering to a Puritan colony when a member of his congregation comes to him with a problem.Mortifyingly, it becomes his problem, too.-----Written for Racketghost's 13 Days of HalloweenDay 5 prompt: witches
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Series: The Great Woods and the Ineffable Colony [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2071503
Kudos: 13
Collections: Racket’s 13 Days of Halloween





	The Farming Collective

“'Twould be better if I showed thee, Reverend Fell.”

Aziraphale had agreed. That had been a mistake.

Young Hariph had come to him for spiritual guidance, confessing to him that he wished to live a devout, Godly life but was bent to sin, again and again. When Aziraphale asked for more details in an effort to succour him, Hariph could explain no further. Instead, he offered to show “Reverend Fell” the source of his corruption.

Which is how Aziraphale found himself crouching behind a gnarled tree in the middle of the night, trying to hide himself in the absence of foliage. Hariph had pressed himself against a nearby trunk, head sticking out the side to look.

Both were staring into a clearing in the forest, at the center of which was a raging bonfire. Numerous women, on hands and knees and circling the flames, swayed and danced to individual rhythms audible only in their respective minds.

They were also entirely naked.

Aziraphale narrowed his eyes at the scene. He had vast knowledge of humans’ religious ceremonies and spiritual practices, not to mention their few, legitimate conduits to the ethereal or occult. This did not resemble any serious ritual he was aware of. It looked like a juvenile fantasy from the mind of someone desperately repressed, unfulfilled and lonely. 

Noting the way Hariph’s hand had wandered under the layers of his practical woolen clothing and was now engaged in a repetitive motion, Aziraphale was certain his assessment was not uncharitable or inaccurate in the slightest.

“Enough, young Hariph. Let us take our leave and pray for God’s mercy.”

“Nay, Reverend Fell! See the full cause of my corrupt nature!”

A latecomer joined the gathering and Aziraphale’s eyes widened in recognition. She stepped regally among the dancers and wiggled out of her dark shift to bare herself entirely to the night. Freed from all clothing, the new arrival was nonetheless half shrouded in a dramatic hang of wild, red curls.

Crowley. He’d encountered her in the forest several months prior, and she’d been cagey about the nature of her assignment in the area. 

“I’m establishing a socially-subversive, polyculture farming collective, angel.”

Obviously.

Aziraphale’s corporation started to react to the heat of the fire, face flushing and sweat gathering around his neck. He tried to hide more fully behind the tree, until only the thinnest sliver of his eyes peeked forth.

Crowley’s unruly hair swayed as she began to move, revealing brief glimpses of the body beneath. Freckled skin teased as it disappeared and reappeared from behind russet locks.

She was as tall in female presentation as when she presented male, though small changes to her corporation gave her a lithesome bearing. As her shoulders and pelvis gyrated sinuously the subtle swell of breasts were revealed, making Aziraphale’s mouth water as he thought inexplicably of biting into ripe fruit. Sharp hip bones enticed his fingers to find a handhold, and the angel abruptly stopped making an effort, realizing his own hands were in danger of wandering beneath his woolen clothing.

The demon danced with otherworldly grace, stretching her arms into a welcoming motion toward the rest of the circle. The women undulated to their feet. Aziraphale saw the minute, two-handed snap before the entire coven began to levitate. The women started to chant and laugh.

Hariph had remained fixated on an apple-cheeked blonde whose position in the circle was nowhere near anyone with red hair. As the dancers rose into the air Crowley turned to look Aziraphale directly in the eye and winked.

Oh, good Lord.

Aziraphale whirled around and plastered his back flat against the tree.

It was then that he heard a soft noise of pain - no, of  _ pleasure _ \- coming from his left. He looked for Hariph but the young man was leaning against a tree to his right. 

Suspicious, Aziraphale stretched out his angelic sight and then groaned to himself.

This colony had altogether too many teenagers.

Hidden behind trees of their own were three, four, no  _ six _ other youths. Help-On-High, Faythe, Be-Steadfast, Abuse-Not, Jackcock, and God-Helpe all attended the church where Aziraphale preached. A short distance away and walking for home were More-Fruit and Sorry-For-Sin. 

Aziraphale had never been caught in a more embarrassing situation. Slumping to sit on the ground, he tilted his head back to rest against the tree. He resigned himself to waiting until Hariph had watched his fill and wished fervently for the imminent popularization of sex education for adolescents.

**Author's Note:**

> Racket recced _The Witch_ , I watched it, then this happened. 🤷🏻


End file.
